You were ethereal to her. Funny, considering she was supposed to be the guardian angel here.

Clarisse sits on your bed and watches as you kneel in front of your altar, a Bible and a few statues laid out, their eyes tracking her. A few prayer candles flicker, as if the flames are speaking. You mutter your prayers, rosary in hand. You’re almost done, she’s done this about a million times.

She was supposed to only be your angel.

With a soft exhale, Clarisse bites her lip as her looks at you- tears brimming your pretty little eyes, cheeks and nose painted slightly red, she can feel your pain.

Oh, how she loves your pain.